King and Lionheart
by WalkingWit
Summary: Arthur was the King of Camelot, and Merlin his lionheart. After the final battle, they try to find each other again centuries later.


**I usually write Mergana, and have one Merthur fic called 'Finally'. I heard this song by Of Monsters and Men and thought it was so fitting for Merlin and Arthur that I had to write something. It's mostly to get out my inner angst, but please review if you liked it (or hated it)**_  
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**King and Lionheart  
**

_Taking over this town, they should worry,  
But these problem aside I think I taught you well.  
That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.  
_  
The King looked over at his adviser, face grim. He stood tall, crown shining atop his blond hair, cape with the Pendragon crest draped over his shoulders.

This coming battle, nay, war, had been twenty years in the making. For twenty odd years, Arthur had been King. For twenty years, Merlin had changed his profession from manservant to Magical Adviser and Counsel. For nearly three decades, Merlin had served Arthur, and would always serve him.

Arthur was usually so confident before a battle. Never had been so distraught, not even when uniting the five kingdoms to create Albion. Merlin was with him every step of the way, offering advice, words of encouragement, and clever humor when necessary. The King and his Warlock, always together.

Worry etched the King's face, blue eyes tired, face lined with wrinkles, and golden hair flecked with gray.

"Go, Merlin," he said stiffly, turning to face the window.

An army made its way into Camelot, threatening to ruin the united lands of Albion as they knew it.

"I'm not going anywhere, sire," Merlin replied.

He stepped forward, standing next to Arthur. He gently put a hand on his shoulder. He had always been there, by Arthur's side. Two sides of the same coins, they always were. For Albion needed not only strength and courage, but magic, wisdom, and unwavering loyalty.

"It's not safe here, go on," he was quieter, more solemn.

Merlin snorted, "Like that's ever stopped me before."

And it had never stopped him before. Every battle, every war, Merlin was in the thick of it. He used everything in his power to protect Arthur and the kingdom they had built together.

"I can't bear to lose you," he looked down, chin shaking slightly. He had said those words before, and they always held the same meaning.

"I will always protect you, I promise," Merlin said, patting the King on his back.

_And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,  
Looking down on these bright blue city lights.  
And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.  
We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.  
_

They were both in the midst of battle, Arthur with his sword and Merlin with his magic. Swords and metal and armor clashed against one another, the noise of all the knights deafening. Merlin's eyes glowed, creating a fire in the snowy winter forest, consuming Morgana's men in flames. He flinched, still not used to being a murderer. It weighed on his conscience heavily, each time he ended a life.

His eyes met Morgana's, across the way, searching for a hint of the girl she once was. They were so old now. So tired. So very, very tired. Her haggard appearance likely mirrored his own. They used to be friends, such a long time ago. Now they had blood on their hands, far too much blood: the blood of warriors, the blood of sorcerers, and the blood of innocents. He bitterly thought that he and Morgana weren't so different, in the end.

She screamed in warning, and Merlin turned around to see Mordred stab Arthur through the stomach. Morgana yelled something, a spell, and Merlin didn't care enough to listen or to notice her warriors and Camelot's knights freezing in place. He ran towards Arthur, pushing a shocked and victorious Mordred to the ground. The younger man gasped, breathing heavily, his sword marred with the king's blood.

"ARTHUR!" Merlin shouted, holding the king in his arms as he fell to his knees.

"Merlin," he choked, heaving. So this was the end.

"Stay with me, Arthur, please," tears pricked his eyes. His hands found the wound and he mumbled a spell repeatedly, over and over again. Gwen would kill him.

"_**Bring him home safe, Merlin," the Queen had asked him, as she had so many times before. She cared for each of the knights and respected them greatly, but Merlin was always the one she trusted the most. Knowledge of his magic or not, Merlin had always been loyal to Arthur, to her. And she would trust him with her life.**_

In the background Morgana fell to the ground, the victory hers, but spirit dead. Her brother was dying and it was she who had planned the attack. What had she done? She and Mordred gazed at each other, unsure of what to do.

"I'm glad you're here, Merlin," Arthur smiled, pale as a ghost. His blue eyes met Merlin's.

"Arthur, please, wake up, come on you dollop head, clotpole arse, stay with me," Merlin pleaded.

"Merlin," his smile began to fade, "don't you worry. You won't get rid of me so easily," he blinked slowly, eyes shutting closed.

"No," Merlin mumbled, freely crying.

_Howling ghost they reappear  
In mountains that are stacked with fear  
But you're a king and I'm a lion-heart.  
A lion-heart._

Centuries. It had been centuries. His best friend, his king, had been gone for too long. He had been looking, searching for him.

Every time he spotted a tall, blond man, his heart leapt into his throat. It was never him. Every time, his heart would sink back into his chest, the aching feeling of being so alone haunting him, always.

He was supposed to protect Arthur, and he had failed miserably. He died in battle, and he could only watch as Morgana took her brother from Cammlann to Avalon, her face streaked with tears.

"_**I'm coming with you," Merlin wiped his face.**_

"_**I need to do this alone, Merlin," Morgana frowned, trying not to let her emotions through.**_

"_**Morgana," his voice was gentle. He wouldn't let twenty years of animosity and hatred get in the way of them placing Arthur to rest.**_

"_**You can't come with me, Merlin. Once we go to Avalon, there's no coming back," Morgana said, "someone needs to tell Gwen," her chin quivered. Gwen, her oldest friend, the queen who now hated her.**_

"_**I've been with Arthur every day of our lives since we met. I'm not leaving him now," Merlin said, voice steely. He had followed his king into battle, becoming not only a subject, or an adviser, or even a friend, but a warrior. For Arthur he killed and destroyed and protected. He was a lion-heart, all for his king.**_

"_**There's no coming back," Morgana repeated.**_

"_**I don't care. Why come back when he's not there? When everything we've created has been destroyed?" he asked pointedly.**_

_**Morgana nodded, whispering, "I am so sorry."**_

"_**That won't bring him back," Merlin spat.**_

_**So the only remaining Priest and Priestess of the Old Religion transported the fallen king to Avalon, where they would remain.**_

"_**Will I ever see him again?" Merlin asked, sounding like the boy he was once and not the man he'd become.**_

"_**I'll make sure of it," Morgana cradled her brother's head in her lap. It was the least she could do, to make sure the two friends were reunited one day.**_

Merlin was bitter, so incredibly bitter. It had been so long and Arthur was nowhere to be found. How foolish he had been to believe Morgana, who he had grown to consider his friend in centuries of isolation and loneliness. Morgana who had always traveled, trying to find a clue as to where her brother may be.

_His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly  
Pass the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind.  
Though far away, though far away, though far away  
We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same.  
_

He stopped short, blue eyes widening. He had been minding his own business, just crossing the street, going about his daily errands, and there he was. Tall, ever so thin, hair dark and unruly. He looked like a boy again. It had to be him, it had to.

"Merlin," he whispered. Of course, he didn't hear, "MERLIN!"

The man turned around, blue eyes looking around. He spotted the golden-haired man, the sunlight lighting his hair like a crown.

"Arthur?" he breathed.

Arthur laughed, relieved and overjoyed. He ran across the street without looking, narrowly avoiding an angry cabbie. Merlin stood on the sidewalk, numb. How was this real? Was his best friend really standing in front of him?

"It's good to see you, Merlin," Arthur grinned.

Merlin blinked, "All these years and that's all you have to say to me?"

Arthur licked his lips and Merlin kept on staring in awe.

"Merlin?" Arthur looked worried now.

Without warning, Merlin wrapped his arms around him, gasping.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," Merlin shook.

Arthur's arms wrapped around him tightly, holding his oldest friend, "And I thought I'd lost you," he mumbled.

Passerby looked on at the embracing men in confusion, but went on their way.

"I failed you, Arthur. You died," Merlin pulled away shamefully. He'd failed Arthur, Gwen, the knights, and all of Albion. They were left behind in history or legends or fairytales, never to be seen again. It was all his fault.

"You never failed me, Merlin," Arthur shook his head.

_Howling ghost they reappear  
In mountains that are stacked with fear  
But you're a king and I'm a lion-heart.  
And in the sea that's painted black,  
Creatures lurk below the deck  
But you're a king and I'm a lion-heart.  
_

They reached Merlin's flat a few blocks away, Merlin fumbling with the keys.

Inside, they shed their jackets and shoes and Merlin brought them lemonade and Arthur joked that he must still fall over at the mere whiff of a barmaid's apron and Merlin smiled and called him a dollophead and it was as if no time had passed at all.

"I thought I was imagining things, seeing you," Arthur said, taking a sip.

"Same," Merlin confided.

"You were everywhere, Merlin. Haunting me. I finally remembered Camelot, you, everything, one day years ago," Arthur started, "and I had hoped you'd lived and found peace and had a family, but then I remembered you and Morgana took me away," he shook his head.

"To Avalon. I wouldn't leave you," Merlin frowned.

"You died, Merlin," Arthur grimaced at the thought of a lifeless Merlin.

"We all did, Arthur, eventually," Merlin shrugged.

"Did you ever find her again, Freya?" Arthur asked. He found out that the monster he had slain all those years ago had been Merlin's first love.

Merlin shook his head, "No," he croaked.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said.

"I never really dwelled on it, being alone all these years," he shrugged.

"You had Morgana," Arthur said, not even asking.

"How'd you know?" he asked in surprise. Morgana had repented, atoned for her wrongdoings, and begged for forgiveness. They were stuck with each other, through what little magic was left in the world. They had become friends of sorts, each other's support system, until one day she left and he never heard from her again.

"She found me. Told me to take a walk today," Arthur smiled softly.

"That woman," Merlin smiled and shook his head. So that's why she disappeared. She did that ever so often, every few years, searching, always searching.

"She's so sad, Merlin," Arthur's heart panged for his sister. She was alone in the world. He and Merlin had each other now, but her? He had forgiven her in his heart because he helped him find his way back to Merlin, but she was still so lonely. If only they could find Morgause, or Gwen. _Gwen_...

"Aren't we all?" Merlin asked.

"No. Not anymore," Arthur gazed into Merlin's eyes and scooted over on the couch.

"Merlin." Arthur started, "I never want to leave you again."

"Nor I, you. You're my best friend, Arthur," Merlin blinked back tears.

_And as the world comes to an end  
I'll be here to hold your hand  
'Cause you're my king and I'm your lion-heart.  
A lion-heart, a lion-heart, a lion-heart, a lion-heart  
A lion-heart, a lion-heart, a lion-heart, a lion-heart_

Their hands inched closer, until Arthur's fingers wrapped around Merlin's. They sat like that for what seemed an eternity. It was as if nothing had changed, for they were the same people, but everything had changed. A modern city, no royal titles, no one being subservient to the other. Merlin didn't even have magic anymore. Now they were equals and nothing could stop them.

"Stay," Merlin said quietly.

"Ordering me around, are you?" Arthur joked, thumb running over the back of Merlin's hand.

"Yes, sire," he nodded, smiling a bit cheekily.

He remembered how he'd get Arthur ready for bed, how he'd wake him in the morning. Merlin was the first person Arthur saw in the morning and the last person he saw at night.

"I'm not a king anymore," Arthur said softly.

"You're my king," Merlin said, "always."

Arthur's lips parted and Merlin's gaze flicked down.

"And you'll always be my bumbling manservant warlock," he smiled.

"I don't have magic anymore," Merlin confided.

"Then you'll always be my bumbling manservant lion-hearted warrior," Arthur's brows furrowed and Merlin laughed. Despite his gawky, awkward appearance, Merlin was fearsome then, and he was certain he was fearsome now. Behind a kind face and loving blue eyes was a warrior, and Arthur would never forget that.

"So, will you stay, my lord?"

"You'll have to kick me out," Arthur snorted.

"I won't," Merlin's grip on Arthur's hand tightened.

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**Short, sweet, slightly angsty. Please review.**


End file.
